We'll Always Have Odessa
by paynesgrey
Summary: Peter dances with Claire, and they remember the time they first met. Season 4 spoilers. Peter x Claire. ONESHOT.


AN: Written for the "Break/Old Themes" challenge at pairechallenge on LJ. Season 4 spoilers. This is a one-shot and will not be continued.

We'll Always Have Odessa

"Get up and zip me," Claire commanded over her shoulder, as she pushed and primped with the padded bosom of her dress. When she didn't hear Peter's response, she turned around and saw him staring uncomfortably at her book shelf, straining not to look at her.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Peter, come on; I told you it was okay. I don't care if you're in here."

"I care!" he shot back, and he met her gaze angrily. "I'm creeping myself out here."

Claire shook her head. "I can't believe you. Months ago we were in a plane crash, and you helped me push my liver back into my body, and now you're afraid of seeing a little skin?" She strode toward him, infringing on his personal space. "This is me, Peter – Claire. Aren't we beyond modesty?"

Peter's eyes grew darker, but when Claire saw his shoulders relax, she turned around again and waited for him to comply. Suddenly, she felt his soft fingers tremble over her skin before grabbing the zipper and whipping it sealed. She heard him huff as he slouched back into her bed and watched her with a permanent pout.

Claire sighed. She tried to forget about his attitude for a second and studied herself in the mirror. Her eyes roamed over her body within a red dress that she had meant to wear months ago at a dance with West. She snorted, pushing aside unsatisfactory thoughts of the boy and realizing how the material was loose in places. "I think I lost weight," she murmured dejectedly.

"I think I did too." She caught his gaze in the reflection of her mirror. "Too much stress, it's understandable."

"Yeah," Claire said after a sigh. "I wonder why that is." She paused for a moment, and when Peter didn't say anything, she felt the tension in the room dissipate. "Good thing that's all over. Now we can go back to being normal."

She caught his unexpected wry grin. "Don't we say that every time?"

She turned around and smirked at him. Sometimes Claire hated Peter's random moments of cynicism, but not this time. She really felt like this time it was going to work out. Peter went back to being a paramedic, and Claire was going to college.

"Nothing more normal than a dance," Claire said, smoothing out the red dress and appreciating her shiny silver stilettos.

"It's an Orientation Ball," he drawled, and Claire expected his inevitable quip.

Instead, she stole his chance to tease. "Well, since I didn't get to go to my senior prom, I thought, hey, nobody's trying to kill me at the moment, so I'll take this chance."

Peter smiled, and he rose from her bed and stood behind her. They enjoyed a moment of stillness together, and Peter put his hands on her shoulders. "You look great."

Claire tilted her head, her smile becoming wider. "Thanks. I hope someone else thinks that way tonight, someone else going stag."

Peter chuckled. "Don't worry about that. There will probably be a line." He exhaled heavily, his smile fading slightly. "I'd go with you and beat them off if I didn't have to work tonight."

Claire glanced at his paramedic outfit, and she found that it suited him perfectly. She only wished she could see Peter in action. She bet he'd save a lot of lives and become a hero to many people.

When she thought of his heroics like that, she was almost jealous. She always considered him her own personal hero and no one else's. She looked to the floor, feeling her own smile fade when she thought about the past. Funny how things had changed so much.

"Hey, what's the matter? You're not having second thoughts?" His hands left her shoulders, and she felt him press his palm on the middle of her back, right where his fingers zipped her up not minutes ago.

"I was just thinking…" She turned around and had to step back to give each other space. Getting close to Peter was always like losing the air in her lungs. She looked at his face and felt his body warmth so close to her that she'd forget to breathe. She didn't know if it was his empathy powers or if it was just him, igniting feelings within her she couldn't understand. "It would be nice if you were there. You could make up for that dance you owed me at Homecoming."

Peter's brow knitted together in confusion. "What dance?"

Claire shook her head and she moved away, playing with the loose strands of her pinned up hair style. "It's nothing. Just…" She laughed a little and found his eyes again. She saw him cross his arms and watch her with full attention. "When you saved me from Sylar, the first time we met, I was so shaken up I had forgotten about Homecoming. I could only think about Jackie's death and how it could have been me – it _should_ have been me, but then you saved me." She took a breath and looked at her hands. "Then, when I met you in the jail cell to thank you, I began thinking about Homecoming again, how if things were different, I would have gone to a dance. Jackie might have still been alive, and maybe Zach would have taken me, and then maybe I'd get to dance…and then get to wear a crown." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Then I thought about you, how if all of that did happen, I wouldn't have met you," Claire said. "And the more I thought about it, the more I thought the whole fantasy was a joke because if the Homecoming dance was real, I would have wanted to dance with you – the man who saved my life."

Heavy silence drowned Claire's room, and she desperately wanted him to say something, anything other than looking at her like he was peeling away not only at her memories but also the layers of her soul.

Peter turned around, and for a second, Claire thought he was leaving – like he was appalled or uncomfortable. Instead, he turned around and played her iPod resting on its stand on her dresser. She saw him flip through a few songs, and when a sweet melody filled her room, he turned around.

He held out his hand, and heat began to swell in Claire's chest. She wondered if her heart was still in one piece. When she looked into his eyes, she got her answer as everything inside her seemed to break and heal all over again.

She took his hand delicately, and he pulled her slowly against him, their hands finding the right positions as their bodies moved instinctively to the music. Claire closed her eyes –breathed - and thanked God for Ella Fitzgerald.

"I didn't know you liked this kind of music," Peter said conversationally as she nodded, though the more they danced, the more Claire felt his body becoming warmer against hers. She shuddered, feeling the desire to go to this dance slipping and slipping as her time with Peter dwindled.

It was no use. He was working tonight anyway, destroying any dreams of having him take her to relieve her anxiety. She wouldn't know anyone there, and aside from her dad, Peter was the only one that made her feel completely safe no matter where she was. Despite her initial feelings for Peter still buzzing at the surface, Claire felt comfortable and whole when she was with Peter.

She made peace with herself long ago that nothing was ever going to happen – that it was wrong for her to ever hope of having him. Rationalization won out in the end, and yet her heart still fought her every time she saw him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, and she made special note of when his chin grazed her nose. He felt so tall next to her, so unreachable.

"I was thinking of the first time we met," she said as low as a whisper. Their eyes met, and both of them knew they were waltzing in dangerous territory. Claire eased tensions immediately with a confident smile. "I always think of Odessa whenever I see you. Not of exploding bombs in New York, not of fields that hold speeding trains, and certainly not of Coyote Sands or stand offs with killers." She paused a beat, and she could see the understanding and the unconditional love in his eyes. "It's always Odessa, and I don't know why."

He dipped her, and her eyes widened from slight surprise. Peter grinned at her mischievously, and she noticed he'd been like that a lot more lately – happy and comfortable in his own life.

"I know why," he said teasingly.

Claire tilted her head and gave him a curious stare. "Oh, really," she played his game.

"Yes," he said bluntly, and she almost forgot they were still dancing. Music continued to saturate the room. She was still wearing the dress that Peter was too afraid to look at. She wondered about that, but then he spoke.

"I always think of that time too because I saved you, and I hadn't done anything significant in my life until that moment. It changed me," he said, and he dipped his head down so that she could feel his warm breath. "You changed me, Claire."

She could feel her heart stopping again, but only for a moment. Then, she was sated, knowing full well that this is how they were. Peter and Claire – both entwined in a fluid destiny of calm waters and dangerous tides. People came and go, and danger was always certain, but it never stayed long to last. Finally, when they'd come back to the start, there was peace, and there were memories of a purer time: Odessa.

"I still mean it," she said, resting her head against his chest as their dancing slowed to a sedated lull. "My life had meaning when I met you too."

He chuckled a little and sighed. Arms wrapped around her tightly but music was still filling them, moving them to a sated beat, teetering over fine lines and blurred intentions.

Peter pulled her back, and hope stirred in her heart again. Love was always reborn when Peter looked at her, held her.

"Are you ready for this dance tonight?" he said, their tender moment fading to the side, tucked away for another day when they treaded into the deepness of their purest intentions but ill-fated desires.

Claire smiled. "I'm always ready." She said, but then she pouted. Peter looked at her skeptically, and Claire asked. "Are you sure you have to work tonight?"

Peter smiled his crooked smile, the one that always made her knees just a little less sturdy.

"I can drive you there and walk you up to the door," he offered.

Claire rested her hands in front of her and nodded. "It's a date." She grinned widely, and he rolled his eyes at her playfulness.

As they began to leave, Claire grabbed her small silver purse and checked herself in the mirror again. Peter folded his arms and shook his head.

"You don't have to do that," he said. "You look beautiful."

Claire laughed. "You're biased."

Peter shrugged. "I don't know about that."

As they were out the door, Claire stopped, and she saw that Peter noticed something was bothering her again.

"Come on, Claire. You can't back out now," he said encouragingly.

"I know," Claire said. "It's just that if some creepy stranger asks me to dance, I know I won't have any fun. I mean, the dancing won't be the same."

Peter sighed but nodded in understanding. Claire clung to him and wondered if he really knew her true meaning. No dance she ever attended would be the same without Peter, not after having danced with him tonight.

"Well, I suppose when you're dancing you can think of something else." His hand was in hers as they walked into the cool night toward his car. She caught his tender smile when he said, "Just think of Odessa."

Claire brightened to that. Of course, Peter didn't know she never really stopped thinking of Odessa, and of him.

END


End file.
